


Balloons

by nightkissedsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightkissedsammy/pseuds/nightkissedsammy





	Balloons

Balloons were the only ones who understood him. Sammy loved them. But now that they were gone, forever and leaving nothing but heartbreak and scars, scars that will never heal under the pain and lies he will have to keep telling himself, even after he gets the apple pie life he wanted, they will stay and never heal, like the balloons that already popped, torn and frayed. That’s what Sam is, torn and frayed. After Dean.

They were just another lie, another memory, another crater in his heart that he left, down the lane of tons other, along with the tears coming, oh the tears and nostalgia…

Dean wasn’t gone.. but then may be he is, just as Sam is gone, because Sam left, just like the balloons he blew kisses of good byes and agony, before he let them go.

He could almost remember how he tasted on his lips, sweet, candy, pie, home. But he left home didn’t he, and so the tastes faded. But oh, there were the plumed lips, dancing over the milestone of soft pure skin, his skin, cherishing it, marking it through the bittersweet love bites, carefully hidden behind the thin layers of shirts, before ravishing him completely, making there way down, down, and down. Bruises and hickeys, as light as fevered butterfly pecks on the lips, planting themselves on his thighs. It was bliss. Like how the balloon is so delicate and fragile, one touch and it breaks, but the sun makes it so much stronger and brighter that it can’t help but fall in love.

He missed them. But he was translucent, like all the unworthy balloons are, and then came the day may be he thought Dean could see that too. So he left. He floated away, out of Dean’s grip, to a place where he can’t be hurt, he reached for the sun. Little did he know, Dean was the sun, and he was flying back straight to him, again and again, not now, but soon enough.

It was like how Dean makes him fall completely apart, then take the pieces and rebuild them again, with reverence and love like he was born to do just that.

That summer we fed our hearts on dust.

It was before Stanford. A summer of kisses and beaches, of the sun, of sand and balloons. Of tragic. He remembers how Dean would give him balloons and ask him to kiss their coed lours away, because he was the sun, Dean said. Balloons are free, light and bright, but not without the sun, just like Dean promised him to be. But oh god, when was it that he realized he wasn’t, he wasn’t free, even with Dean. And balloons aren’t supposed to be restrained, and he was to be kissed, then let go of. But oh didn’t he want to stay, to nestle in Dean’s affection, he was the sun, illuminating the balloon, and how sun-kissed, it feels warm, cared for, loved. He didn’t want to let go. But he did, and suddenly, the sun stopped shining, he got heavier, with tears and grief, but the balloon still floated away, dimmer than ever, heart in the air, hopeless. It was on their last night that their love-making became their last memory, both shone and dimmed, before flickering out completely.

A love affair between the sun and a balloon. How beautiful. Heartache and tragedy, it ended.

Tears start to fall and imprint themselves onto his pillow. God, another night. Dean has let him go, now it’s his turn. Balloons always float away to a better place, don’t they?


End file.
